Not Broken
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: During a game of Capture the Flag, Nico discovers that he's more haunted by the Roman adventures than he'd like to believe. Will is there with a name for what's wrong with him and a powerful promise.:: PTSD Solangelo fic for Poke


_For Poke via GGE_

 _Word Count: 2,677_

* * *

"I have never seen you this excited about capture the flag," Will whispers as Annabeth goes over the strategy.

Nico shrugs, a grin tugging at his lips. "It'll be pretty hard for them to get the flag if they have to fight off skeleton soldiers," he says quietly.

Will laughs, shaking his head. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss Nico's cheek. "I'm reasonably sure that's considered cheating."

"There's nothing in the rule book against it. Is there even a rule book?"

Will shrugs. "Dunno. It's usually just 'No deliberately maiming anyone.'," he answers. "Maybe someone should ask Chiron-"

Annabeth clears her throat. "Will, Nico!" she says sharply, her stormy eyes narrowing. "Have you heard a word I said?"

Nico opens his mouth before closing it, frowning. He'd been so caught up in his boyfriend that he hadn't actually heard anything other than the occasional "flag", "Hephaestus", and "win". Luckily, Will is better at multitasking.

"You're trusting Nico and me to stop serenading one another with sonnets long enough to scout enemy territory," he answers. "Keep an eye out, and don't make out until after we've taken care of any lingering guards."

Nico feels his face burn. He sinks down, painfully aware of the way everyone is staring at them, chuckling under their breath at Will's words.

"You've taken some liberties there," Annabeth says dryly. "But essentially, yes."

Will offers her a salute. "Don't worry, Annabeth. We've got this."

…

"Careful," Will says, grabbing Nico and pulling him back just as a flash of Greek fire flies past him. "Hephaestus Cabin and their traps. Looks like they've been working overtime."

Nico nods, looking around. It's strange that they haven't seen anyone. He knows that they have to be close to the flag, but they haven't crossed paths with a single enemy guard.

In the distance, they hear someone cry out, yelling something about a net. Nico draws his sword, approaching the source of the noise. "I'll cut them down," he says. "Wait here."

Before he can take another step, Will grabs his hand. "You're not going anywhere without me, Nico," he says firmly.

Nico rolls his eyes. "It's capture the flag, not war," he says patiently. "I think I'll be okay for five minutes."

He isn't surprised that Will chooses not to listen. It's annoying, the way he is so ridiculously protective, but Nico is starting to find it endearing.

"Maybe we should go back," Will suggests. "We haven't heard them again. They probably got out of the net on their own."

"Maybe, but we should be s-"

His sentence is cut off as the ground shifts underneath him. Nico flails, desperately trying to control it, but his heart is racing too fast, his mind too overloaded with the sudden shift, and panic blurs his instincts. He collides, face down, on something solid. Before he can push himself up, a lid shuts, engulfing him in darkness.

Nico forgets how to breathe. The space is too tight, just like that jar.

"Help me!" he screams, barely managing to roll onto his back. His fists beat against the lid, frantic, desperate. "Help me, please! Will! Will!"

There are no seeds this time, no trance to keep him safe. The walls seem to close in on him, and Nico screams again, the effort leaving his throat raw. His fists continue to pound on the lid without fail.

He's in the jar again. Death is approaching, so slowly, hanging over his head. He'll never get out. He'll never breathe fresh air again.

Cold sweat beads his body. "Help me!"

Then lid is lifted, but he doesn't move. His heart beats so rapidly in his chest that isn't sure that it's beating at all.

"Nico! Gods, Nico!"

Arms wrap around him, and he thrashes wildly, screaming. They won't take him again. They can't use him. He won't let them! He draws his sword, but his hands are too sore to grip it. It falls uselessly to the ground.

It's over. It's all over.

"Nico! Nico, listen to me!"

"No!"

He squirms, trying to escape the giant's arms. The giant is weaker than he remembers, his arms thinner, but their grip on him is like iron.

"Nico, it's me. Focus on me. Come on."

The words seem strange to him, the voice all wrong. Nico falls slack, sobbing.

"Nico. My sweet Nico."

And the voice finally breaks through. Will. Will holds onto him. Will has saved him.

Nico clings to his boyfriend, trembling. He's safe. He's at camp, in Will's arms. The vase is long gone. It's all in his head, just his mind playing tricks.

He's vaguely aware that they're moving. He hears whispers around them, but he can't make anything out.

"He's hurt," Will tells someone.

Nico is sure that someone answers, but he focuses only on Will's voice. Everything else is just white noise, meaningless gibberish that just washes over him.

"I'll tend to him, Chiron," Will says, and there's a strange tension in his voice that Nico doesn't understand.

They're moving again. Nico closes his eyes, wiping his tears on Will's shirt.

…

Nico examines his knuckles, not quite understanding how there could be so much blood and bruising. "How long was I in there?"

"Maybe a minute," Will answers, breaking off a piece of ambrosia. "It took me a second to register what happened. The way you were screaming…"

He clears his throat, pressing the ambrosia to Nico's lips. Nico takes a bite. He's already feeling better.

"It felt like I was in there for days."

"You tried to attack me when you got out," Will says, his tone gentle.

Nico looks away. He closes his eyes, trying to remember. He doesn't see Will. He sees the giants, the vase. "I thought you were… They put me in that… I don't… I'm sorry."

Will's arms wrap around him. "No one is blaming you, Nico. Have you suffered from anxiety for long?"

Nico shakes his head. "Just after the vase," he answers. "I still have nightmares about it. I can't be in tight spaces. Connor tried to grab me from behind last week. I panicked and shadow traveled."

Will's lips are drawn into a thin line. Nico wishes he would smile. He doesn't like it when Will looks so pained, especially when it's all Nico's fault.

"Get some sleep," Will says softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Will you lay with me?"

"I need to do some research," he answers, pulling a chair up. "But I'll be right here if you need me."

Nico nods. He lays back in the pillows, his eyes closing. Sleep takes him in seconds.

…

"Good morning, sleepy head," Will says in his most obnoxious singsong voice. "How are you feeling?"

Nico considers. His nerves still feel as though they're on fire. Every inch of his body feels like it's stretched, so close to breaking. The panic is still all too fresh in his mind. But he can't tell Will that. He doesn't want to hurt him. "Better," he answers, trying his best to smile.

"I brought you lunch. Even burned a bit for your dad on your behalf," he says, placing the tray on Nico's lap.

"What were you researching last night?" Nico asks, his stomach growling as he digs into the food.

Will climbs to his feet and looks out the window. "Do you feel up for a walk? The Big House makes a nice infirmary, but fresh air is the best medicine."

"Are you deliberately avoiding my question?" Nico asks.

"Stalling," Will admits. "I promise I'll get to it. Just give me time. I want to make sure you're well enough first."

Nico swallows a mouthful of food. It sticks painfully in his suddenly too dry throat for a moment. It isn't like Will to not answer him straight away. Will has always been an open book, so free with his words. "I'm not dying, am I? I'd feel it if I was. But-"

"No, no," Will assures him, rushing forward and gripping Nico's hand, placing a kiss to his still bruised knuckles. "It's not that serious."

"But it is serious," Nico guesses.

"A walk. That's all I ask. Just let me have a moment first, please."

…

Nyssa approaches them as they near the volleyball court. "Gods, Nico, I'm so sorry! We didn't think the box would-" She hesitates, sucking in a deep breath, her hands moving wildly as she seems to think of her next word. "We didn't think it would hurt anyone."

"I'm fine," Nico assures her, and he hates the way she looks at him, like he's some porcelain thing that will shatter if touched. "Don't worry about me."

She reaches out like she wants to hug him before thinking better of it. With a weak smile, she says, "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Did the entire camp see me?" he asks as they walk away.

"You were screaming your head off," Will says, wrapping a protective arm around him. "You, uh. You caught some attention."

"Great," he mumbles.

Once, they all stared at him because he was the son of Hades, a great enigma, something to approach with caution. Now, he's the boy who had an embarrassingly public panic attack. Curious and nervous eyes are replaced with pitying glances and hushed whispers.

"They're just worried about you," Will says softly. "That's all. No one judges you."

"I don't care about their judgement!" Nico snaps, his face flushed.

Will sighs and holds Nico closer, his free hand brushing through Nico's hair. Nico groans, guilt heavy in his stomach. What did he do to deserve someone like Will Solace, someone who offers him comfort even after being screamed at?

"Sorry," he mutters.

"It's okay. I can imagine your nerves are still pretty shot," Will says calmly. "It's to be expected."

"You know what's wrong with me," Nico guesses.

Will inhales deeply. Nico notices the tension in his jaw and frowns. He hasn't seen Will like this often, only after battles while tending to campers with no chance of surviving. That doesn't sit well with Nico. If Will has already decided he's a hopeless case, he isn't sure that he wants to continue this walk anymore.

He's about to tell Will that he suddenly feels weak and needs to go back when they arrive at the pier. Will sits on the edge, guiding Nico beside him.

"Do you know what post-traumatic stress disorder is?" he asks.

Nico bites the inside of his cheek. He remembers being a child in Venice. He remembers Pietro, once a smiling man, so full of laughter, coming back from Mussolini's campaign changed, screaming and filled with suspicion. He doesn't remember if they had a name for it back then or if it was just some nameless tragedy.

"It's a disorder that can develop after exposure to trauma," he says at last, staring at the horizon, unable to look at Will.

He doesn't want to see the pity in his eyes. Nico can take it from anyone else, but not Will.

"Yes," Will agrees, taking his hand. "It affects the mind. People who suffer from it have nightmares about the event. Flashbacks can come back on their own, or through triggers. Sometimes the flashbacks are so powerful that the sufferer can't distinguish the past from the present."

"Like last night."

Will dips his bare feet in the water below. Nico looks at him, studying him. There's no pity in his eyes, only concern. Somehow, that only makes Nico feel worse.

"Can you fix me?" Nico asks, and the desperation in his voice is so obvious that it hurts.

"You're not broken, Nico. Don't think that for a second," Will says firmly. His arm wraps tightly around Nico, and he holds him like he never wants to let. "That's not what mental illness is. It doesn't mean a person is defective, or that you need to be repaired. You aren't a machine."

Nico almost laughs. For a moment, Will reminds him of Leo.

"I can't treat you," Will says. "Apollo's gifts only heal the physical. I spoke to Chiron about it. I prayed to my father. I can't take it away."

His voice is brittle. When Nico looks over at him, he's surprised to see Will crying. Nico reaches out, wiping a tear from Will's cheek.

"I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be some great healer, but I can't even take away what's hurting you," Will continues, wiping his eyes furiously. "I feel like I've failed you."

"It really means that much to me that you can't treat my mental illness?"

Will nods without speaking. He continues drying his own tears, scowling to himself.

"I love you."

Will pauses, dropping his hand to his lap. He looks at Nico, his eyes swimming with confusion. "I- What?"

"I love you," Nico repeats, his cheeks burning. It's not how he imagined the first use of the word will be, but it feels right.

"I love you, too," Will says slowly, confusion bleeding through. "What brought this on exactly?"

"You. You told me I'm not broken. You did everything you could, and it hurts you that you can't take away my pain," Nico answers. "I love you, Will Solace, and you've done more than enough."

"But I-"

Nico presses a finger to Will's lips, making a shushing sound. "More than enough. You've taken care of me. You took the time to figure out what's happening. No one other than my friends would have done that for me," he says. "It doesn't matter if I can't be healed. You've done what you could, and I love you, you idiot!"

Before Will can argue, before he can continue to beat himself up over his perceived failure, Nico leans in, kissing him fiercely. Will falls slack against him, smiling into the kiss.

"We'll get through this," Nico whispers.

"Together," Will agrees.

…

"So, this is New Rome," Will says, nodding his approval as they pass through the streets. "Is their hot chocolate really as good as Percy says?"

"Better," Nico says with a nervous smile.

It's been a rough few weeks since the moment on the pier. He still has nightmares and flashbacks, but Will has stayed by his side. He was there when Nico went to Chiron, and he had filled in places where Nico's words had failed. It had been Will's idea to contact Hazel and find out if there were any therapists for demigods at Camp Jupiter.

Will gives his hand a gentle squeeze. He leans in closer, propping his chin on Nico's head. "Don't be so tense," he says. "Hazel said this woman is supposed to be the best there is. Even Reyna recommends her, and I hear she only takes the best."

Nico nods. It doesn't make it any easier. He's never been one to just open up about his feelings, even to people who understand. He doesn't like the idea of being so completely vulnerable around a complete stranger.

"Glad you could make it," Reyna says, hurrying over, Frank and Hazel behind her.

"Didn't realize you were on the welcoming committee," Nico teases.

Reyna grins for a moment before growing serious. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"Or me?" Hazel adds.

Before Nico can answer, Will steps in. "He's still coming to terms with everything, guys," he says. "It's not always easy to talk about mental illness, even to people you care about. Give him time."

Hazel nods and places a hand on Nico's shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. "When you finish your session, we're going out for hot chocolate together, okay? All of us."

"Even Reyna?"

"Especially me," Reyna laughs. "Go on. She'll take good care of you. I promise."

Nico nods and allows Will to lead him to the clinic. He hesitates on the steps, his heart beating unsteadily, his palms sweaty all of a sudden. Will kisses his forehead. "It's going to be okay," he whispers. "I'm here. Always."

"Always," Nico echoes, taking a deep breath before climbing the first step.


End file.
